


In Loco Parentis

by QuinFirefrorefiddle



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-25
Updated: 2011-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:19:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinFirefrorefiddle/pseuds/QuinFirefrorefiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The teachers and other adults at the Collegium are not only teachers, but also have nearly parent-like roles in their students' lives.  A parent- with personal experience of what that can lead to- arrives at the Collegium one spring afternoon to take them to task for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Loco Parentis

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to seekergeek for being such a delightful and helpful beta!

Dean Teren was having a cup of tea with Elcarth, discussing the planned overhaul of the boy's dormitory in the Collegium. A soft breeze came in through the window, and a few papers fluttered about for a moment until Teren could weight them down again. All together, it was an unusually pleasant and stress-free afternoon.

 

Until, through the window, came a commotion in the direction of the gate. A woman in a small pony cart was arguing with the Guards, who were walking alongside her as she approached the building, and they were all gesturing repeatedly at the Collegium.

 

Her voice was beginning to rise loud enough for Teren to hear it. “So you want to _keep me_ from my daughter? Is that it? Tell me, son, is this a job you take a lot of _pride_ in, separating children from their parents?” People were starting to stare.

 

Teren and Elcarth glanced at each other, and put down their tea. Perhaps their pleasant afternoon was coming to an end.

 

*

 

When they reached the outer courtyard, the woman was standing beside her cart, one hand on the pony's neck, the other gesturing wildly as she questioned the Guards' intelligence, compassion, and concept of honor at high speed. When Teren and Elcarth stepped out into the sunlight, she rolled her eyes pointedly at the Guards and turned to them.

 

“Finally, someone who can make decisions. I've come for my daughter, Lanna. She was stolen from us last week, and I've come to take her back.” Her voice was more controlled now, and had less contempt in it- but a fair bit more anger.

 

“Stolen from you?” Teren blinked, and took a moment to remember that Lanna- arrived two days ago, pleasant enough child- was from Sweetsprings. “My good woman, I'm sorry there has been such a misunderstanding. A Herald should be at your home even now to explain what has happened. You see, your daughter has been Chosen--”

 

“ _Yes_ , sir,” and the contempt was back in her voice full-force, now, “I understand all about the 'Companion's Choice' and the hypnotizing and the _stealing_ of children from the loving arms of their families.” A Guard gasped, and Teren gestured they could leave. “I know about it all too well. But you'll not have my daughter. No, _sir_.”

 

Elcarth, in his least threatening voice, the one he used with the most terrified of the new Trainees, said, “Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside? And I'm sure you'd like to see your daughter and know she's unharmed, she's in a lesson at the moment, we could call her here.”

 

The look on the woman's face clearly said 'stop patronizing me' but she agreed, at some length, to come inside. Teren stopped two older Trainees nearby, and sent one to bring Lanna to his office, and the other to take the pony and cart to the stables and see to its care. As they went to his office, he introduced himself and Elcarth, and the woman said that her name was Trista, and confirmed that she and her family lived in Sweetsprings. When they arrived and sat down, however, she refused his offer of tea.

 

Teren cast about for a way to begin their conversation, but could not imagine how. Elcarth, however, with decades more experience and patience, proved a blessing once again. “Trista, you said you knew about the Companion's Choice? Is Lanna perhaps not the first of your family to be Chosen?”

 

“No, she isn't. In fact, that's why we're here at all. Her cousin--” at this point, the three of them could hear someone running down the corridor. Trista jumped out of her chair and out the door; a moment later she called her daughter's name. Teren and Elcarth stepped out into the hallway and stopped a few paces away from Trista and Lanna's emotional reunion. Keren, still with a slight limp, approached them and nodded- Lanna had been at her equitation lesson, then.

 

:: _ What's this, then, brother? _ :: Keren raised an eyebrow at him.

 

:: _ Lanna's mother, Trista, has come for her- claims we stole her away, something about hypnotizing as well. _ :: At this, Keren's other eyebrow went up as well, and Teren gave a very small shrug.

 

Trista still had Lanna clutched to her, tightly. “We were so scared, darling, it took us half the day to discover someone who'd seen the Companion and figure out what had happened. I'm so sorry I wasn't there, you must have been terrified when you first saw it.” Lanna just cried louder into her shoulder for a few moments, and then quieted.

 

When Trista and Lanna turned to face them, Teren gestured everyone back into his office- and gave a moment of thanks that he'd thought to request a larger office than Elcarth had ever had; his had a table just large enough for them all to gather around. Trista pulled her daughter's chair as close to her own as possible.

 

Elcarth began the conversation again. “Trista, I believe you were saying that Lanna is not the first in your family to be Chosen?”

 

Trista leaned back in her chair and took her daughter's hand. “Lanna, tell me, how did your cousin die?” Her voice was gentle as she asked the question, but she faced Elcarth, and her eyes were not.

 

“She died a hero, saving children from a burning building, mamma. She was brave and selfless, and those children are alive today because she was there to save them.” Lanna was apparently a little confused that her mother wasn't looking at her- she glanced nervously between Trista and Elcarth.

 

“And how old was she when she died? And how old were you?”

 

“She was nineteen. I was ten. That was three years ago.”

 

“And tell me, dear, what do you remember of your cousin Christa? What was she like?” At this, Trista looked briefly at her daughter, voice still gentle, and squeezed her hand.

 

Lanna, encouraged, thought for a moment. “She was nice, she gave me her sweetcake once. And she was very good at the Midsummer dances.”

 

“That's right, dear. What else?” At this, Trista looked back at Elcarth, and then Teren and Keren.

 

“I don't... mamma, I didn't see her much, you know that, neither did you or anybody. She was Chosen. She lived here, at the Collegium.”

 

“That's right. How often do you remember seeing her?”

 

“She came home for Midsummer and Midwinter when she could. But she was sick once, and the snow was too bad another time. I was three when she was Chosen....” Lanna's voice trailed off at the serious looks on all of the adults' faces.

 

Trista looked at her again. “Thank you, my dear, that's right.” She turned back to face Elcarth. “Christa's own mother, my baby sister, doesn't have many more memories of her daughter's adolescence than Lanna does. I barely got to see my own Namechild- for my sister named her for both me and our brother Chranton- let alone learn what kind of woman she became, besides how she died. She may be Chosen, but I don't choose that future for my daughter.”

 

Elcarth had been visibly confused for some time by now. “But Christa was from outKingdom. You said you're from Sweetsprings?”

 

“We live in Sweetsprings, yes, we moved there- my family and my baby sister's- when Christa was Chosen. The Herald who visited told us about what an honor it was to be Chosen, how respected and well educated she would be. So we packed up our things, said goodbye to Chranton the rest of our family in Haldorn, and paid everything we had to move to Sweetsprings, so we could see her as often as we could- so she could have family as nearby as possible.”

 

Keren ventured, “And you stayed?”

 

“We had no choice- we could not afford to move back if we'd wanted to, and even then, we would not return to what Haldorn has become. My husband's name is Sandar, after Haldorn's last, true king. Most of our family is still trapped there, under Ancar's hand.”

 

Teren's face changed, as though something had become clear. “Trista, if it's that your family cannot spare Lanna's hands to work, the Queen will hire a hand to replace--”

 

“ _No_ , sir. Though we cannot spare her in the orchards- or indeed myself, if we do not return quickly much of the pear crop will be lost- that is not why I am here. Lanna is _not_ a field hand to hire a replacement for, she is my _daughter_ , and I will not lose the rest of her childhood to you. And I will _not_ allow your... your _hypnotizing_ to connive her into such a dangerous profession before she's of age to even consider those kinds of decisions.” Trista was practically vibrating with anger by now, and Lanna was wide-eyed and silent beside her.

 

Keren blinked in surprise. “Hypnotizing?”

 

“I did not witness my daughter's being chosen, lady, but I did see Christa's. That trumped-up over-exercised horse,” and at this, Teren had to put a hand on Keren's arm to keep her from saying something he'd regret, “came right into our annual family gathering- managed to trample rather a lot of the food, as well- and Christa went right into a trance or something, and mounted the thing. Her father was just barely able to track her to the border, and most of the rest of the family was in hysterics and mourning until he returned with a Herald to explain what had happened. Don't tell me it wasn't hypnotizing- Christa was _Chosen,_ she didn't _choose_ \- she never had a choice.”

 

Elcarth tried to interject, “Trista, we all have a choice, we are all free to leave at any time. We choose to remain and be Heralds because we feel called to the duty, to serve our kingdom--”

 

“ _Your_ kingdom, sir. Not that it matters- those Companions of yours show no respect for your kingdom's borders when they choose children to steal, how many of your Heralds are truly serving _their_ kingdom? And as for choice- she's free to leave, oh, I'm sure. But without her Companion, am I correct? If she leaves, she loses that heady, wonderful relationship with a beautiful horse that can _talk to her in her mind_ , and she'll never feel loved quite like that again? Yes, that's a free choice that you've given her.”

 

Teren tried again, “Trista, what you choose for your daughter's life and what she chooses for her own may well be very different things. I have children, and I understand how hard it is to allow them to grow into who they are, instead of who you were at their age.”

 

“ _No_ , sir, I don't believe you do understand at all.” She turned to her daughter. “Lanna, look at me. Whatever you choose for your life- who you choose to spend it with, what work you choose to do- you know that your father and I, and the rest of the family, we will always be proud of you. We trust your decisions because we know, from experience, that we can. Because we know you. But you are still a child, and it is still my duty to you- and your father's- to keep you as safe and healthy as we can, and to _continue_ raising you as best we know how. When you are of age, you may do with your life what you like- but our duty towards your childhood has not yet run out. Do you understand?”

 

Lanna looked at her mother, and then glanced briefly at Keren before facing her mother again. “Yes, mamma. I do.” She turned to face Keren. “You said just a candlemark ago that my parents raised me well. Shouldn't they continue to?”

 

Keren stared at Lanna for a moment, stunned. “Lanna, don't you want to be a Herald? Your bond with Ziata is growing so well.”

 

Trista responded before Lanna could. “If Lanna wants to be a Herald, she is free to- when she is of an age to make that vital, and dangerous, of a decision. And as for the Companion- well, as far as I can tell, we're all agreed it's her horse. If she's willing to care for it, perhaps it could come with us- though I don't know how we'd pay for its food, it must eat quite a lot.”

 

Elcarth responded quickly- as it seemed Keren's response would likely be of more candor than was diplomatic. “The Crown provides for all the Companions, Trista. No matter the circumstances. And it occurs to me...” he thought for several moments, “that this has happened before.” The twins' eyebrows shot up in unison. “Oh, not often, and not quite like this- but a young man with a particular set of skills needed on his family's ranch was Chosen when I was still a very young Trainee, and finding another man who was that good with their more troubled animals was going to be very difficult for them. As I recall,” and he paused again for a moment's thought, “he, and his Companion, remained at the ranch while he could train a replacement, and the Collegium provided him with books for him to continue his education with as he could in the meantime.”

 

Teren nodded. “That sounds workable. Trista, when would Lanna come of age according to your family's traditions?”

 

Trista was clearly still thinking it over. “She'd be of age at seventeen in Haldorn,” she replied, slowly, “and perhaps something like that would be acceptable, yes.” She looked at Elcarth again, determination in her eyes. “But no further pressure until then. No Heralds coming to visit, no propaganda, no tales of the glory of war- because it doesn't have any.”

 

The twins nodded together. They knew that well enough. Elcarth replied, “Then we are agreed. Lanna will learn what she can, at home, until she is of age to rejoin us at the Collegium.” At Trista's look, he continued, “if she so chooses.” Everyone at the table, including Lanna, nodded their agreement.

 

*

 

A candlemark later, Lanna (changed back into her own clothes) was standing next to her mother at their pony cart. Ziata was investigating something that had disturbed a nearby hedge, and Teren was catching the books Trista tossed at him.

 

“No, no, no... higher math? Really? Well, all right. No....” Trista was making quick work of the stacks of books that Teren and a couple of younger Trainees had brought out.

 

“But Trista, you're refusing _all_ of the volumes of poetry and history?” Teren was staring at the rejected books in shock.

 

“And how many of them have heroic Heralds in starring roles?” She spared a glance for him. “I thought so. She'll make her decision on her own, I said, and won't need your help.”

 

Elcarth came out of the Collegium and approached the cart. “I am glad that we could come to an agreement, Trista.”

 

“I'm glad you've decided against stealing my child, Elcarth, though I do wish you'd reconsider about the rest of them.” She glanced at Ziata. “That looks like quite a grown-up horse. I don't suppose your grooms take young foals away from their mothers as well?” she asked Teren.

 

“We take the greatest of care in raising the Companions, I'll have you know, and they're not separated from their mothers until they're quite ready!” Teren was clearly furious at the slight on his sister's work.

 

“Really? You treat them better than your own students, then?” At this, Teren shut his mouth firmly, and walked back into the building with the Trainees, rather than lose his temper in front of them.

 

Elcarth remained where he was. “Many of our students are orphans, you know, or... they don't miss their homes when they arrive for other reasons. And some are from right here in Haven and see their families regularly.”

 

“So you only steal _some_ of the children, well, that makes me feel better.” Trista finished wrapping the last book in oilcloth for the journey and turned to face him. “Look, Elcarth, I'm really never going to not be angry with all of you about this. But seriously, think about it- you might want to reconsider some of your recruitment tactics.”

 

“We will certainly take your ideas under advisement, Trista. You have given us something to think about.” He nodded gravely at her, and they shook hands.

 

Trista got into the cart and Lanna mounted Ziata. She smiled at her daughter. “Let's go home, my dear.” And her daughter, the future Herald (as Trista knew quite well) preceded her out of the gate.


End file.
